Song of the Free
by Starr Bryte
Summary: One step at a time Elizabeth learns what it truly means to be the Pirate King. Pirates may be the scum of humanity, but they are also free... 3650 days until she can see Will. 3650 days until she can see Will. 3650 days until she can see Will. 3650 days..


**Dear Reader,**

**This was written soon after I saw Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. It was written in a LiveJournal entry that this movie was a fanfiction writer's dream. So many open ends to chase after. And what better storyline then that of Elizabeth Turner and the ten years she waits for her husband's return. I'm having lots of fun with this and it shouldn't be too long. If it is it'll probably be one of those stories that goes from saga to saga. I'm not really sure what I want to do with it so I'll just go wherever my muse takes me. **

**I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean.**

**This is for the one I love. Daisuki, daisuki love. And to all of my friends. Especially those who have seen the movie. **

**Stay safe  
Stay healthy  
Sincerely,**

**Starr Bryte**

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The seas were calm and the winds fair the evening Captain Elizabeth Turner, King of the nine Pirate Lords of the Brethren Court and Lord of the South China Sea bid farewell to her husband, Captain William Turner of the Flying Dutchman and Ferrier of the Seagoing Dead. When he walked into the water and vanished in a flash of green she was left with the memory of his touch like a burn on her skin, his softly whispered farewell and an ornate chest that pulsed with his life under her hands. She stood and stared after her husband's vessel until the stars were glimmering in the sky before turning away and wandering back to her camp for the rest of her clothes. On the other side of the horizon the Black Pearl, Flagship of the Pirate Armada, awaited her to take her wherever she wished to go. For a moment she simply cuddled into the blanket, breathing in his scent and feeling his heart beating under hand through the wrought iron. All too soon his scent would fade. The love-marks on her skin from his fingers and lips would heal. The remains of their camp would be covered by the tide and their mingled footprints would vanish. All that would be left would be her own memories and the prescious chest she had been charged to keep. She remained there until the sun began to stir from the horizon and night once again turned into day before she finally got dressed, packed up the longboat and returned to the Black Pearl. The crew laughed and jostled each other as they helped her aboard again, her things transferred to the Captain's quarters and she was left alone, sitting on the narrow bed as they raised the sail and weighed anchor, the chest pressed against her leg. How long she sat there she couldn't really say, long hours to guess, and only stirred when a glass of mulled wine was pushed into her hands. She nodded her thanks and Captain Barbossa smiled kindly back.

"Drink up, Missy." He simply said. Jack wandered in, a bottle tucked under his arm to lean against the desk.

"The Pirate fleet is sca'ered e'ery which way so i'll be a week at least, maybe e'en mo'r befo'r we can organize again." He said picking up a map and turning it upside down to squint cross-eyed at it.

"Since when are Pirates organized?" Elizabeth asked, a bare hint of her old humor coming through.

"Since the Pirates got themselves an organized King, that's when." Barbossa answered, grinning. She almost moaned, remembering the vote. She wanted to lie down and lose herself in her memories for awhile. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted Will. But all she had left was his beating heart inside of a chest she couldn't open, nor did she want to. She remembered tracing that scar with lips and fingers. How jagged and uneven the edges were. Raised and violent and still tasting of his blood. But now the Organized Govenor's Daughter part of her mind was awake. Curiosity and a sense of duty. These were her people now. She was a Pirate Lord, Pirate Captain and Pirate King. A ruler of a free people. She had to take care of them. She sighed and sipped at her wine tentatively. She wanted Will. But she could suppose she had the next best thing. His heart. He couldn't be on land so she didn't need land. She would be Pirate King and rule the waters. She would find a way to contact him, even if it was by message in a bottle.

"Then send out the message..." She said, setting down her glass and standing, "In one week the Nine Pirate Lords shall meet on Shipwreck Island in Shipwreck Cove and we shall speak in the town of Shipwreck about what has just passed and what is now to come." She stood up and tightened her belt, lightly touching the cutlass at her side and giving, what she hoped was, a confident smile, "We have won a major victory in the battle for survival. In this shrinking world I would have us win the war." Barbossa grinned in answer, a wild smile that was both feral and charming.

"Aye-aye, Capt'n." He answered. Jack met her eyes and he gave her a crooked smile that was a little knowing (she never really could hide much from him), a little remorseful, a little wary and a little sad. Then he shook himself, took another swig of his beloved rum and shook his head mockingly at her.

"I knew I would end up regrettin' this, but... Aye-aye Captain Turner!" He answered, holding the bottle into the air in a half mocking salute. Truly getting into her role now Elizabeth strode confidently out of the Captain's quarters, barking orders left and right.

"Lay on the sails as thick as you dare! Hey to the crowsnest! Look for any ship of ours and sing out if you do, sing out if you don't and sing out if you're not sure. Gibbs!"

"Aye, Cap'n!"

"Keep these men on their toes, the winds at our backs, but I'll have no slackers!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Marty, keep the weapons in good shape, we don't know who might be on the waters so soon after a battle like this!"

"Aye-aye!"

"Cotton and Parrot!"

"Waark! Aye Cap'n Aye!"

"Steady at the Helm!"

"Waark! Hoist the colors! Hoist the colors! Waark!"

"Good idea. HOIST THE COLORS!"

"Hoist the colors!"

"Hoist the colors!"

"Heave to!"

"She's in fine form..." Barbossa murmured proudly, "Ye picked a good King, Sparrow."

"So I have, so I have." Jack agreed amably before muttering into his bottle, "I'm just not quite sure if it's a good thing or bad just yet..."

"Oh, aye. A good thing is a good thing and too much of it could turn into a bad thing. But for now it's a good a thing as we could wish for and surly she is. Don't you see it yet, Jack? We may have lost Calypso and the favor of the seas... But we have gained something far more useful..."

"And what would that be?" Jack asked mockingly. Barbossa chuckled and stroked Monkey Jack's headfur, "She represents everything a good Pirate longs for in a woman. Strong and resiliant. Faithful and true. Unpredictable and brave. Fair and wild. Beautiful and powerful. Such was Calypso. Only this fair, all too human beauty shall rule us as the Goddess of the Sea never did. For too long have we been without someone to look to for guidance. When worse came to worse we always looked to the Code."

"And when worse came to worse the man behind the Code." Jack shivvered convulsivly.

"She has studied what few copies of the Code offered. She drank in tales of the Pirates as a babe would her mother's milk and flourished with her experiences. She will be a Pirate King that sailors will be singing of for years to come: The Bride of the Flying Dutchman."

"Captain Barbossa!" Elizabeth called from near the mainmast, "Before we make port at Shipwreck Cove I would see to my ship and her crew!"

"Aye, Captain Turner!" He called before bellowing to the crowsnest, "Eyes to the seas! Sing out if you catch mast or sail of the_ Empress_!"

"Aye-aye!"

"Bride of the Flying Dutchman, eh?" Jack muttered, tossing his empty bottle from hand to hand, "I like that... But what of us, mate, eh?" He glanced at Barbossa out of the corner of his eye, "We were the two who got her where she is today. Without us she would still be the Govenor's Daughter and married off to ol' coconut-brain-stick-up-his-arse-what's-'is-face. What about _our_ songs and stories?"

"Well, Jack..." Barbossa said patronizingly, "We'll just have to figure out an adventure more grand than that of defeating an entire Royal fleet." He tapped his chin thoughtfully before mockingly holding up a finger, "I have one... Fighting the Flying Dutchman in a Malestrom..." He chuckled and patted Jack's chest sardonicly, "Top that..." Then he was tromping away barking out orders and looking important. Jack rolled his eyes and made his way weavingly through the business to the prow of the Pearl where Elizabeth leaned against the rail, burning a hole through the water with her intense stare.

"Y'know, I don't think glaring at the water is going to bring him back any sooner..." Jack said tentatively, joining her, "Just a thought."

"Less than a day..." She said softly, "Less than a day since he's been gone and already it feels longer..."

"Eh..." Jack muttered, leaning with his back to the rail, "Do what my Mum always did..." She looked up at him curiously, "What was that?" She asked.

"Well... First she worked herself unto exhaustion, then she would cry herself to sleep e'ery night and start the whole process over again until he came back..." He eyed the empty bottle in his hands contemplatively, "Sometimes I'm glade she's a shrunken head at his belt..." He muttered, "S'good for her to get out once in awhile..." Elizabeth glanced at him questioningly and he grinned in a, hopefully, disarming manner.

"Don't mind me, luv. 'S been years since I've been back to Shipwreck cove since I was given my 'Eight and in the last week I've been there more times then I care to think about."

"Is that why you drink so much rum?" She asked, "To forget?" Jack sucked his teeth for a second before tossing his empty bottle in her direction, which she caught in confusion before watching him stumble away.

"Time for more rum." He muttered as he went, "I like rum. Rum is good. If I was you luv," He called over his shoulder, "An' in search of somethin' to do besides mope over something I can't have. I'd best be experimenting on ways to at least commun-ercate in a most rudimentary fashion at the verrily least... Wouldn't do to have our Captian King being egregious in her yearningfulness now would we?" He continued to mutter to himself as he slid down the steps into the hold. Elizabeth stared after him for a few seconds before returning her gaze to the sea. She turned the bottle in her hands for awhile, glancing at it every so often. It was a long stemmed bottle of a deep green color. The glass was simple, thick and slightly crude with lumps in odd places. Sighing in soft frustration she flipped it in her hands and drew back her arm to throw it before stopping in mid-motion. She stared at it again for a moment. It was the right size for a piece of parchment to easily fit down the long hollow neck. The perfect type of bottle for messages to hold. Her heart did a flip and her stomach dropped in answer. She took a deep breath. And then another. Turning she walked resolutely back to the Captain's quarters and searched until she found a clean sheet of parchment. The pen was slightly blunt and looked chewed on and the inkwell was almost empty which made the ink she did get became watery from the few drops of water she added. She took a deep breath and fought to calm her scattered nerves. Her handwriting was somewhat shaky but still legable. At least Will would be able to read it without too much trouble. The letter was short because, no matter what her heart thought otherwise, there was still a possibility that her hairbrained message-in-a-bottle plan wasn't going to work. At all. But even the smallest of chances that it would work gave her the bit of hope she needed to at least try.

_Dearest Will,_

_Already nearly a day has passed and already I miss you more than I thought could be possible. I pray that this letter reaches you so that the days will not feel so long. I am heading to Shipwreck Cove to see to the survivors and then, perhaps, on to Singapore. Afterwards, who knows where I will be headed? Both Barbossa and Jack were making noises about a mythical fountain, but I think I'll pass on that adventure. I am Pirate Captain Lord of the South China Sea and Pirate Captain King of the Brethren Court. I know where my duties lie just as you do. And like you I must needs take care of my crew. I hope this letter finds you well and please give my greetings to Bootstrap. If you see James among the waters tell him I am sorry and yet, not sorry at all. I think he will understand._

_Take care of yourself and send a reply with all haste. I will be waiting._

_All of my love,_

_Elizabeth_

With a tender care she rolled the parchment and stuck it into the bottle, sealing the cork tightly. Cradling the bottle carefully she made her way to the stern where she kissed the bottle before hurling it and its precious burden into the waters where it was swiftly carried away. By then the sun was already preparing to touch the horizon. The first day of her ten year wait had already passed and there were only nine years and three hundred and sixty-four days left to go. From the rigging she could hear Pintel teaching the two newest members of the crew the flag song. His husky somewhat off-key barritone making an odd harmony with Reggetti's reedy tenor. Tentatively Murtogg and Mullroy joined in. Then Marty's harsh rasp. Then Cotton's soft hum, the only vocalization he was still capable off, surprisingly sweet. Gibbs' strong voice joined in soon after.

"I never got to ask the importance of that song..." Elizabeth mused.

"The most important song a person what calls themselves free could sing." Barbossa answered, coming up to stand beside her, "When the first meeting of the Brethren Court adjourned there was a young cabin boy who served amongst them. 'Twas said his gift for song made even the mermaids weep with envy. When the Lord of the Caspian asked the question 'when will we know to meet again?' the Pirate King simply gestured and the boy sang in a voice most sweet that the pieces of eight upon the table sang in answer. Whenever that song is sung in such a way as to make the symbollic coins ring it is a sign that the very fates are calling back the Nine to meet."

"What other times did the nine 'Eight's ring?" She asked. Barbossa grinned.

"The second time was during a plague and it was decided that any ship who was even guessed at to hold the sickness should be either sunk or unapproached. A grim fate for any sailor. The third time wasn't so much a call as a murmur during a time of much strife between the Pirate Lords. There was a dissagreement and one of the Lords called upon the power of the nine 'Eight's to settle it." Barbossa looked uncomfortable for a moment, "This fourth time was not so much as a call to unbind Callypso as a cry for help." He turned to stare Elizabeth straight in the eye, "I will tell you straight that if your husband finds the soul of Cuttler Beckett I do not pity the man's fate. A message reached me during the Brethren Court of a great execution. Indeed they near ran out of rope and soon had to make do with bootstrings. Anyone even looking at one suspected of piracy out of the corner of their eye was executed. Their body's thrown into the depths, young Turner has a mighty job ahead of him." Elizabeth choked on a gasp and Barbossa looked grimly out over the water as he continued, "The song was begun by a boy, not unlike the boy who sang the song first all those years ago. 'Twas said he held a Piece of Eight in his hands. He sang and soon the condemned sang with him and soon the very cliffs of Port Royal echoed with their song." He turned his gaze back to the young Pirate King, "Do not forget who we are, Ms. Turner. We are Pirates. Vagabonds. Theives and beggers and other unsavory scraps of humanity. But also do not forget what we represent. We are freedom. Men and women who have cast aside government, politics and even religion to do what we feel what really makes us feel free. When a person feels downtrodden by the very people who were supposed to serve and protect the people... Who then are the true pirates? The people who strive to be free any way they can? Or the theives who hide behind the law and rape, pillage and plunder those who seek something more?" He smiled and nodded, "You are King now. Voted by the Nine Lords of the Brethren Court. Remember that and you'll do well. Listen to the song of the free and know who it is you truly serve." With those words Barbossa fished into his pocket and pulled out a Piece of Eight which he then blew on, bit and then handed to her. By this time Jack had reappeared on deck with another bottle of rum and was singing happily. When he caught her eye he grinned and raised his bottle in a salute and she had to smile. A good man was Jack Sparrow.

_Know who it is you truly serve..._

"We are Pirates..." She said softly to herself, turning the coin in her fingers, "We are Pirates... And we are free..."

And it was that Elizabeth Turner, Pirate Captain of the Empress, Pirate Lord of the South China Sea, Pirate King of the Brethren Court and wife of William Turner Captain of the ghost ship Flying Dutchman and Ferrier of the Seagoing Dead, raised her voice in harmony with the song of summoning. In less than a week the Brethren Court would convine at Shipwreck Cove. In less than a month she would be sailing to Singapore. In less than a year? Who knew? But in less than a decade she would once again be reunited with her beloved Will. Suddenly she found that the years didn't seem to weigh so heavily over her head. The only bonds that contained her were the bonds of marriage, a cage willingly and happily gone into. She was young and she was free and she was King. It may have been Elizabeth Swann who took up the duty of Pirate King and knew to take care of those under her charge, but it was Elizabeth Turner that laughed and sang and danced upon the deck of the Black Pearl, the ship that had changed her life drinking rum with the man who had changed her life. Life was good. She had the heart of her husband, literally. She also had rum. It was an aquired taste after all and was starting to grow on her. She toasted the moon. She toasted the ship. She toasted her husband and she toasted the man who had brought them together.

"To Captain Hector Barbossa!"

"Oi!"

"...and Captain Jack Sparrow..."

"Yor a doll, luv..."

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Yo, ho, haul together,  
hoist the colors high.  
Heave ho,  
thieves and beggars,  
never shall we die.


End file.
